Chaos
by FaithfulWhispers
Summary: How does one react when everything they've ever known just crumbles? Donatello faces is this and experiences his worst nightmare.


**Hey guys, so I decided to write something different. Well, then again if y'all are familiar with my works, then this might not come as a total shock. If you're a bit squeamish, you might not want to read this. Also, it contains possible triggers. Anyways, hope y'all will like it! ^.^**

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Flashes of red, bright crimson. Smoke billowing into the sky. Fires. Fires stretching miles before him. Broken glass, in shatters everywhere, glimmering like gems. Heat, burning fiery heat, searing against his face. Tears sting sharply, causing his red eyes to glisten.

There's so much noise, that it's deafening. He can't hear anything, nothing at all…

Chaos…

Destruction…

All of it, right before him.

His breath catches in his throat, suffocating him. The odor of ashes fills his nostrils and bile rises up. Then, he looks down from his place on the tower and sees a rushing current, but not one of water. Arms flailing, ripples of movements, shoving and kicking in a massive wave. People in panic, fleeing for their lives while trampling on others.

Madness…

As he watches from above, his heart rate quickens, speeding up rapidly. Then he slowly lifts his head, eyes forward. His lower lip begins to tremble as he eases his hand behind his back, only to grasp at nothing but air.

He grimaces as a hundreds of pricks in his hand at once and he jerks his hand. Sure enough, his hand's full of tiny shards of wood digging right into his leathery hand with blood dripping from his fingertips.

As he muffles a small cry, he bites into his lips, gnawing into the flesh. Warm liquid pools in his mouth and there's a bitter, metallic taste on his tongue. Piece by piece, the splinters fall, leaving dribbles of liquid crimson down his arm.

 _What is all of this?_

He tries to move, or at least do something. But as he lifts his foot to step back, a wave of regret comes hurdling down onto him. Stomach churning, he spits out the bloody wad from his mouth, and allows fear to grip him.

W _here are my brothers?_

His pupils shrink, and his temples throb, aching for him to remember. Then for a moment, he ceases to breathe. Second by second, his vision blurs and head feels lighter.

Then he inhales, breathing once more.

Before him, the madness spreads throughout the city. The stampeding citizens drown in their own blood and chaos. As he stands there, the fires worsen and embers dance through the sky. Sirens continue to sound off in the distance, wailing pitifully. All of it is useless...

Even his legs tremble, barely holding up his weight. He struggles to fathom how this came to be, but he knows. He knows, but refuses to acknowledge it. It was just too maddening, and it threatened to tear his mind apart.. Fear, pain, and rage, it seeps into his core, driving his heart to pump faster.

The blood within his veins rush through him, slowly melting him from the inside out. Should he run? No, there's nowhere to run. All of it is doomed, and he knows that as he clutches the fabric in his left hand.

The fabric in his left hand.

He squeezes the wad even tighter as his breathing shallows out. It couldn't be...b-but he knows it is. Slowly, he pulls his hand close to his plastron while refusing to glance at it. He didn't…There's no way. After all, he didn't mean for it to come down to this.

But he did. And it had.

Swallowing hard, his entire arm begins to tremble, and he struggles to breathe. His conscious screams at him not to, commanding him to just watch the flames burn brighter, but he needs to. He needs to see. And so, he closes his eyes and lifts the fabric in front of his face. His entire body threatens to collapse, and he clenches the muscles in his face.

Then, he opens his eyes.

Orange. Red. Blue...but even more red, splattered all over the vibrant colors.

His jaw drops in horror as air rips from his lungs in a silent scream. Everything burns, searing, smoldering.  
 _  
What have I done?_

Smoke rises up before him, swallowing his hand and the tattered bandanas with it. Bright white light fills his eyes as tears streak down his cheeks, evaporating into the heat. The blackened whisp of air surround him, consuming him.

Then...darkness.

There's cool air against his skin. His heart races, air wheezing past his as he keeps his eyes shut tight. But then, as he relives the bright flashes of fire in his mind, he whips his eyes open. Only, he finds himself staring at a dull, stony ceiling.

He's all alone, safe in his room.

The realization washes away the fear and pain. Then Donatello clutches his blanket as water fills his reddish-brown eyes. His heart then slows to a steady pace, and he breathes with ease.

 _It was all a dream. Yes, nothing more than a dream..._

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 **A/N: So yeah, kinda dark and gruesome. However, I was inspired by SAINW from 2k3 when I wrote this, and post apocalyptic stuff. I thought it would be fun to put it into a form of a nightmare, and use imagery instead. Thanks for reading everyone, and I hope you liked it!**


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